Immorality
by Alena L.A
Summary: Gaara has done so much to be a good person, but now he has a serious problem; he's in love with his brother's girlfriend. Torn between being a good brother and the desire to be loved, he struggles to keep the approaching insanity at bay. All he can do is hope that the love he feels will fade away over time.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was a normal morning in the Hidden Sand Village. The sun was beginning to rise and the bitter cold of the night was just beginning to fade as the usual blistering heat of the desert took over. Vendors prepared their shops and stalls for business and villagers began their daily chores. Small children ran from their homes to the Ninja Academy, excited to start ninja training. The young red haired Kazekage watched his village come to life from the window in his office, his paled aquamarine colored eyes scanning the streets. As he watched a young couple greet each other with a kiss, a deep ache filled his heart and refused to leave, even long after the couple had. Sighing, he let his fingertips graze the kanji "love" on the left side of his forehead, which stood out against his fair skin, before turning away from the window. Despite the fact that he had family, friends, and a village that loved him, there was still a hole in his heart. There was no denying that, even with everything he had now, something was missing. He glanced out the window again and spotted another loving couple, making the ache grow stronger. It was at that very moment that it was obvious what he was missing. Someone to love and to hold him was what he was missing.

Quietly, he stared at the small cup of tea that one of his assistants, Matsuri, had gotten for him. It was a rare moment when she arrived earlier than Isla, his second assistant. He knew why she had arrived so early; to see him, it was as simple as that. Ever since he had come to her aid when the Shitenshounin had kidnapped her, Matsuri had taken a liking to him. As his student, she had been rather fond of any training exercises that allowed her to get physically close to him. Over time she became unafraid of him and walked confidently next to him. When he was appointed the position of Kazekage, she revealed herself to be very loyal and trusting. Would she be able to love and accept him wholly? He tried to imagine her arms around him and her lips against his, but the idea didn't spark any longing. There was no desire to be with Matsuri in such a way. He wasn't sure he could handle her personality all the time. With almond shaped dark brown eyes, almost black, Matsuri focused on her shoulder length light brown hair and whether or not her makeup was perfect. She was one of those young women who were intelligent in fashion and not much else, though she managed to obtain a job as his assistant. Matsuri was an outspoken, controversial, and sometimes a completely irritating person. But if not her, then whom would he be with? Another person's face immediately came to mind.

Isla. She was much different. She didn't wear makeup around her pastel blue eyes or spend hours on her long inky black hair. Fashion wasn't a subject she knew much about, but she knew what was appropriate and what wasn't. Out of all the people he knew as the leader of his village, she was the most shy and most soft-spoken, and definitely the least irritating. Images of her and him together flashed in his mind for only a moment before he banished the thoughts. It was terrible for him to imagine her in such a way. Not only was she his assistant, but his brother's girlfriend as well, shockingly. She didn't exactly fit Kankurou's type, which had been nothing but easy and provocative girls for the past couple years. For him to actually commit himself to Isla, a girl with a soft heart and not a single piece of immodest clothing was quite unexpected. The story of how the two became a couple had never been told, but Gaara was sure it went along the lines of Kankurou being relentless in his pursuit to convince Isla to agree to a date with him. Kankurou always liked a challenge.

A sharp sound from outside his office brought him back to the room and to the tea he was still staring at. Without a second thought, he took a swig of the tea, instantly cringing before forcing the disgustingly sweet beverage down his throat. A light cough escaped his lips as he dropped the cup onto his desk, glaring at it as if it were poison. There was no worse drink than sweet tea. Mostly anything sweet he couldn't stomach. Especially something as sweet as the tea Matsuri made him. Now he was feeling nauseated and his head was throbbing. "Kazekage, sir! I brought you some tea!" a light voice interrupted his silent glaring. When he looked up, his eyes met the soft face and gentle smile of Isla. He glanced at the small cup in her hand and felt his throat tighten as the thought of the sweet tea entered his mind. "No sugar. I know you don't like sweet things." Her comment managed to quell the ache in his heart. How had she known about his intense dislike of sweet things? He certainly did not remember ever saying anything of it around her. Or was it just obvious?

"Thank you, Isla," he spoke softly, almost whispering. His glare vanished as she gracefully glided over to his desk and placed the cup in front of him. When she noticed the tea from Matsuri, disappointment overtook her expression. The sight of it made guilt twist around Gaara's stomach. "Matsuri brought me terribly sweet tea." Instantly the disappointment disappeared and a small smile appeared on her face.

"How's your head?" she asked, suppressing a giggle. All he could do was stare at her with his own question in his eyes. She seemed to understand his unspoken question because she offered up an explanation. "Kankurou told me that sweet things hurt your head. Knowing how much sugar Matsuri puts in her tea, I'd imagine your head pounding." As if reminded about his head, Gaara pressed his fingers to the side of his forehead. There was no need for him to say anything. She chuckled in understanding before picking up the sweet tea and taking a small sip. Gaara knew that Isla liked her tea on the sweeter side, but by the way she scrunched her nose, it must have been too sweet even for her.

"Is Matsuri working?" he tried to ignore the fact that she had drunk from the same cup as him, it was wreaking havoc on his mind. Trying to think of something else, he shuffled through the small stacks of paperwork on his desk.

"I'm not sure. It didn't look like she was," Isla replied with a small smile on her face. For a moment, she looked him up and down before letting her smile face. "Have you been in the office all night again, Kazekage, sir?" Glancing down at himself he could see why she had asked him. He looked slightly disheveled and his robes appeared a bit wrinkled.

"I don't sleep, Isla. I can't. You know that," he turned away, pretending to search through the cabinets behind his desk. The shame he felt for something he wasn't able to control and the fear of rejection she stirred up inside of him. He hid his eyes from her, too afraid to let her see the result of his insomnia and the conflict swirling within them.

"You should still go home and rest," she sighed and hesitated for a moment before walking around his desk and up to him. "Why do you always hide your eyes, Gaara? Your eyes are . . . indescribable." The way his heart sped up at he compliment made him shrink away from her, humiliated by his involuntary reaction to her. _Kankurou's girlfriend. Kankurou's girlfriend. Your _brother's _girlfriend. _It was necessary for him to keep repeating those words over and over inside his head otherwise he'd let his behavior switch from professional to risqué.

"My eyes make most people uncomfortable," he mumbled, turning back to the desk to finally pick up the tea she brought him. A sense of relief swept through him as a bitter taste, instead of sweet, met his tongue. She truly knew what kind of tea he liked and how he liked it. Kankurou must have told her, like how he told her that sweet things hurt his head.

"I'm not one of those people."

"You're only saying that because I'm Kankurou's brother." The realization of his own statement slapped him harshly and caused more pain in his chest than it should have. The fear of seeing that look on her face, the 'You're right, I am,' look, kept him from meeting her eyes. To know that she only tolerated him because he was her boyfriend's brother caused a sharp stab of loneliness to strike his heart and he had to keep himself from clutching his chest as he used to do as a child.

"That's not true! Gaara, look at me! That is _not_ true!" she looked at him with anger filled eyes. The anger made him draw back from her, which he tried to do nonchalantly, but she could easily see through him. "You really don't like me, do you?"

"Why would you think that?" he asked, facing her again, which he instantly regretted. The expression she wore was a troubled one, an expression too sad for him to look at. His gaze immediately lowered to her fidgeting hands.

"You always move away from me and avoid making eye contact with me. Whenever I ask Kankurou if you like me, he says _of course_, but I don't think he would tell me because he wouldn't want my feelings hurt. Either that or he _really _believes that you like me," she spoke quietly, her voice fading at certain words, uncomfortable with the information she was offering up for him to digest.

"I do," his gaze finally rested on hers. There were so many reassuring words swirling around his mind, but not words that he could say because she was his _brother's _girlfriend and not his. If he were to say what he was thinking, she would be appalled and recoil from him. Her eyes barely brightened at his lame excuse for a reassurance. The look on her face made him give his reassurance a second try. "I _do _like you, Isla. Forgive me if sometimes it doesn't seem so. I don't want to cross a line by saying or doing something inappropriate."

"Oh? What do you mean?" she asked, the troubled look barely disappearing as curiosity joined it. Gaara started to feel uncomfortable when he saw the curiosity and started to shift further away from her. "What line would you cross?"

"Isla, I think you should get to work. Matsuri can't handle everything by herself," he was rejecting the conversation completely and he couldn't miss the hurt that flashed across her face for a moment before it was replaced by a small forced smile.

"Of course, Kazekage, sir," Isla bowed slightly, unaware that it bothered Gaara when she did, before picking up the stack of finished paperwork and leaving his office to file them. A long sigh escaped his lips. He hadn't meant, or wanted, to hurt her and knowing that had made his heart throb painfully. It was going to be another long day, like it was always was when she was around.

_The large meeting room was very plain and boring, consisting of only a simple oval oak table surrounded by cushioned chairs and well-watered plants in each corner of the room. There were no windows as the room was located in the core of the administration building and no brightly colored decorations to make it warmer and more inviting. It was located on the floor right below the council room and was usually used to brief shinobi of the village about their appointed mission. As of this day, however, the young Kazekage was using it as an interview room. He was looking for a second assistant to takeover the work his first assistant, Matsuri, could not do. To be honest, she wasn't fit for the job, but Gaara didn't have the heart to fire his former student. So, instead of just finding a replacement, he decided to hire a second assistant. When he made the decision, though, he hadn't realized how difficult the process would be. There were barely any qualified candidates that applied for the position._

_Gaara exhaled quietly, trying to pay attention to what the young girl was saying, but her babbling was incoherent and it hurt his head when he tried to understand exactly what words were coming out of her mouth. It was a waste of his time to be interviewing a fan girl who only wanted the job to get close to him. To hire one his fan girls would defeat the purpose of hiring a second assistant when he was in need of someone who could actually do the job. The girl kept gushing about what an honor it would be to work for him, the Kazekage. He finally cut her off and ended the interview. "Thank you, Miss Kagawa. I have more interviews to conduct, but I will contact you to let you know what I've decided," he spoke politely, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. The girl seemed disappointed that he had ended the interview abruptly, but he couldn't listen to her incessant chatter any longer._

_He led her to the door, stepping to the side when she tried to brush against him. The attempt didn't surprise him because it had happened so many times before. Out of the five interviews he had already conducted, four had been fan girls who had made desperate attempts to touch him in some way and all had been very unsuccessful. Matsuri was sitting at her desk down the hall, in front of the Kazekage's office, but she jumped up once she saw the two exiting the room. She was quick to catch the girl before she tried anything else and pointed her towards the exit before turning to Gaara. "Your final interview is waiting outside your office, Kazekage, sir," she spoke confidently. Working for her former teacher had done wonders for her self-confidence. He only nodded and watched as she escorted Miss Kagawa out of the building._

_Glancing down at his list, Gaara walked down the hallway leading to his office. "Uyehara Isla," he called out. He was expecting another one his fan girls with a face caked with makeup and a body drowning in perfume. Shock filled him when his eyes met the plain, though pretty, face of Isla. No showy makeup; complicated eye shadow and liner, bright lipstick, and heavy blush. The clothes she wore were professional and nowhere near as revealing as what most of his fan girls had worn to their interviews. She stood slowly, looking nervous as she clasped her hands tightly together. All of his fan girls had been excited, too excited, and practically ran to the meeting room. This girl, however, didn't appear to be in any way excited about the interview and by the way she looked at him, she didn't seem to be infatuated with him. "This way, please." Gaara expected her to follow close behind him, but she kept a respectable distance, only coming close to him when he held the door open for her._

_Isla was quiet, speaking only when was required and she never gushed over him or his position. When he asked her questions, she gave him clear answers and provided the information he inquired about. After a somewhat long interview, Gaara brought it to a close. "I have one more question, Miss Uyehara. Why is it that you want this position as my assistant?" he asked and watched as her face flushed. At that moment he was sure that her reason for applying was to be close to him._

"_I want to benefit my village, but I was never able to attend the Ninja Academy, so I can't be a shinobi. It may not seem like much, being your assistant, but as the leader of our village you protect us and work so hard to make sure everything is running properly. If I could help you, if only just a little, it would help my village as well," she spoke softly, unsure of herself. "I would be honored to help you, Kazekage, sir, and in turn help my village." Her answer, like her appearance, surprised him._

"_Well, thank you for coming in Miss Uyehara. I'll be in touch with you," he stood and held his hand out. Isla seemed shocked by the action, but returned the gesture anyway, shaking his hand._

"_Thank you, Kazekage, sir."_

Gaara walked down the hallway to his office, nodding to his older brother, Kankurou, as he passed by him. No doubt he had been visiting Isla. The thought brought the familiar feeling of loneliness in Gaara's chest, even though he would see her in a moment. Isla was standing at her desk, staring down at the papers on it, but turned when she realized Gaara was walking down the hall. "Kazekage, sir, would you like me to stay late to work? I . . . I'm free now. I don't have any plans." He wondered slightly what had happened to her dinner plan with Kankurou. Had he canceled again?

"No. You work too hard. Go home and relax," he said the words without even thinking. Her face fell immediately. It had been two months since Isla had moved in with him and his siblings, sharing a room with Kankurou. By her reaction he knew very well that his brother wouldn't be there with her and that was why she wanted to work late. She tidied her desk up before grabbing her light jacket with a downcast expression on her face. "Isla."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to go to dinner?" he stopped breathing as he watched the shock cross her face. "I can see clearly that you don't want to go home."

A small smile graced her lips. "Alright."

Gaara decided to take her to her favorite restaurant, a restaurant that Kankurou absolutely hated. The moment they walked up to the front doors, Isla's face lit up and she gently grabbed the sleeve of his Kage robe to thank him. "Oh, Kazekage, sir! What an honor! Would you like a private table for two?" the hostess, Mari as her nametag read, had a large smile on her face. She was an older woman with short black graying hair and dull green eyes. It was obvious she was attracted to the young Kazekage by the way she batted her eyelashes and stuck her chest out. The top of her breasts popped out of her purple button up shirt, which was clearly a size too small for her. Gaara watched as the woman squirmed where she stood and could barely see the wrinkles of her matching skirt as she hiked it up higher than it was meant to be. Everyone knew Isla as Kankurou's girlfriend, so this woman saw her as no threat or competition.

Ignoring Mari's actions completely, Gaara glanced at Isla. "Yes. Preferably one in the private rooms," he didn't care how his words made the hostess's eyes widen and look back and forth between him and Isla. She must have been discouraged because she let her skirt drop and her back droop slightly. Nodding, she motioned for the two to follow her as she led them towards the back of the restaurant. Other customers stared and the staff gawked with mouths open. It was quite rare to see the two of them together, even rarer to see them at a restaurant together.

The private rooms were usually used for official business, sometimes unofficial too. They were all identical with deep purple and gold striped wallpaper and purple carpet. From the ceiling hung a small elegant chandelier that provided dim, almost romantic, lighting. The round table was made of the finest imported wood and was only protected by two large circular placemats. Two water glasses sat on coasters, empty and ready to be used. Isla sat in one of the very comfortable cushioned chairs, seeming to feel out of place. The hostess bowed and stated their waitress would be with them in a moment. "This place is expensive," Isla mumbled quietly, squirming in her seat. The food was expensive itself, but the private rooms added an additional thousand ryo to the bill.

"Don't worry. I'm paying," he said as he scanned the menu. Gaara knew why Kankurou hated this place. It was _way_ too expensive, despite the fact that he had the money to spend. Gaara learned that his brother was very cheap, even when it came to his girlfriend.

"My parents used to take me here every year for my birthday." Isla's parents had passed away only a couple years ago. "I haven't been here since they . . . passed."

"You miss them."

A sad smile appeared on her face. "Of course. When it was my birthday, my mom would surprise me with my favorite breakfast in bed and my father would give me a rare rose found in the desert before going to work. After he got home, we'd come here for dinner and the waitress would bring out a moist chocolate cake with the best, smoothest frosting from the local bakery. On top would be a single candle. My mom said I only needed one for my wish to be granted. Since we didn't have much money, that would be my birthday present, but it was always the best birthday present. They would work extra hard the week of my birthday so they could afford to take me here and so my dad could get me a rose. I couldn't have asked for more."

"That sounds . . . amazing."

"It was. I was very close to my parents," her face suddenly contorted in pain. "I'm so sorry, Gaara. I wasn't thinking." He was confused as to why she was suddenly apologizing, until he really thought about what she said. She was sorry because she was talking of the closeness with her parents and he had never had such a relationship with either of his parents. He was about to reassure her that it was fine for her to speak of her parents, but their waitress interrupted.

"Isla, you don't have to apologize for talking about your parents," he said after they had ordered and the waitress left. Isla stared at her now filled glass. "You can talk to me."

"You must get tired of me," she mumbled sheepishly.

"No. That's impossible."

"Gaara? Can I . . . ask you something?" her eyes shifted from his to the table.

"Of course."

"Earlier, when you said, 'I don't want to cross a line by saying or doing something inappropriate,' what did you mean? What line would you cross?" she was obviously afraid of asking him the question, afraid that he would reject the subject again.

"The line between 'my brother's girlfriend' and 'romantic interest.' I know there are some things that I shouldn't say to you because you are my brother's girlfriend. I'm not exactly good when it comes to friendships," he admitted, not making eye contact with her when she looked up. It was humiliating for him, to be admitting something so intimate.

"What things?"

"That is a subject we should leave untouched, Isla."

"Why?" she asked stubbornly.

"You are my _brother's_ girlfriend and I am your boss. Not only is it inappropriate, it's unprofessional," his words made her frown.

"But we're friends."

"We're friends because you are dating my brother." He couldn't miss the hurt that flashed across her face and mentally slapped himself for saying such a thing.

"Oh. So . . . if Kankurou and I were to . . . break up . . . we wouldn't be friends anymore?"

The thought of never talking to her again was painful and she must have felt the same, judging by the look on her face. "I should say 'no,' but I can't."

"Good," Isla said, her face brightening up. "Sometimes I feel like I'd be breaking up with _you _and not Kankurou." The words made his head snap up, his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar.

"What? Why?" he could barely get the words out of his mouth.

"I see you more than I see him. He's . . . always busy now." Gaara watched as she looked up at the ceiling, her cheeks a bright scarlet.

"We're not in a relationship," _but we could be, _he added in his head. She deserved so much more than what Kankurou gave her. More attention, more love, more consideration, and he could give that _all _to her. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him. That was his brother he was thinking about and this was his brother's _girlfriend_.

"You're right," she mumbled.

"Do you . . . want to be?" Gaara couldn't believe he let those words slip past his lips. No, now she would be angry. She would yell at him. Yell that she was his brother's girlfriend and how could he ask such a thing! What kind of brother was he? A terrible disloyal brother.

"That . . . I shouldn't . . . That's not . . ." Isla had no chance to put together a complete sentence because the waitress came with their food. For the rest of the meal, the two were silent, the silence awkward and somewhat painful. She refused to speak, which caused shame to fill his entire body. Gaara decided not to try to strike up another conversation with her, not even when they were walking home.

"I'm sorry. That was out of line. I shouldn't have asked that. Please, let's just forget I even said that," he said when they were finally home. _You're a horrible brother._

"Of course, Kazekage, sir," she whispered, still refusing to look at him. The way she addressed him stabbed him sharply deep in his heart. He never imagined that such a simple sentence could cut him so deeply and hurt so much. _You're a _horrible _person. She hates you now. _She walked up the stairs towards the bedroom she shared with his brother.

"Goodnight, Isla." He waited, but he got no response from her. _You disgust her._ The pain erupted in his chest and he couldn't help but grasp the clothing over where his heart was located. It took him a moment before he could move again. _What were you _thinking? He hated himself and he was _so _disgusted he could hardly stand to be in his own skin. _If Kankurou knew, he'd hate you too. _The thought of Kankurou made shame flood his body, but also made him wonder where his brother was. He looked around for any signs of him, his shoes at the door or his hood hanging from the coat rack. Nothing. Kankurou must not be home. _Good. You don't have to face him._

Gaara climbed the stairs slowly and as quietly as he could, trying to be invisible. _Disappear, just disappear. You're a disgrace._ Halfway up the stairs he heard the front door open and turned to see his brother carefully closing the door. Panic hit him when he realized that he would have to face Kankurou, even though he wished he wouldn't have to. Kankurou kicked off his shoes and removed his hood before turning towards the staircase. "Ah, Gaara, hey," he said when he noticed Gaara frozen on the stairs. "Is . . . Is Isla home?" Her name brought up the incident with her and Gaara turned to look up the stairs, hiding the grimace that flashed across his face.

"Yes. She's in your room," he replied, glancing at the door of the room that Kankurou and Isla shared, which was located right at the top of the stairs. When he looked back at Kankurou, he noticed that his expression was uneasy.

"Is she . . . mad?" Kankurou's voice was quiet, as if he didn't want Isla to overhear the two of them talking. Gaara tilted his head to the side slightly, confused by his brother's question.

"I don't . . . _think_ so, but why would she be mad?"

"We were supposed to have dinner tonight, but I had to cancel," Kankurou's face flushed somewhat and he shuffled in place.

"She didn't _seem _mad. I'm not sure, though."

"Ah, well, I guess I'll find out. Goodnight, Gaara," Kankurou passed by Gaara, smelling of alcohol and something sweet Gaara couldn't identify. He waited until his older brother was in his room before he continued walking up the stairs. He was quick to pass by the door and flee into his own room, which was at the end of the hall. The room was cold and unwelcoming, like it usually was after a long day. Against the wall furthest from the door was his unused king sized bed. The black satin bedding was cold as he lay down on the bed, as was always the case on the rare occasions that he actually laid on the bed. There was nobody waiting for him at night, nobody to greet him with a kiss, nobody to come home to.

At that thought Gaara jolted upright and jumped off the bed. He rushed from his room, down the stairs, and out the front door. Instead of lying in bed with his miserable thoughts, he would work and ignore the misery. The air was cold and the moonlight was bright, but he could hardly focus on either. All he could think about was getting to his office and burying himself in stacks of paperwork. Just another night at the office to force his mind to forget his troubling thoughts. It was nothing he wasn't used to, but it was getting quite exhausting running from the problems he didn't know how to solve. _Not only are you a terrible brother, you're a terrible human being. How can you be so clueless? _"Shut up," he growled to himself. "Shut up, shut up, shut up." He really needed to hurry and make it to the office before he lost his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A loud deadly sandstorm raged outside the buildings of the Hidden Sand Village. It came unexpectedly, trapping everyone in their homes or wherever they were located at the time. Everyone dreaded when the sandstorms struck, all except for a certain red haired Kazekage. Gaara found comfort in the chaotic swirling sand and was relaxed by the sound of it rushing by his ears. He stood on the roof of the administration building with his eyes closed, focused on the movement of the sand. It had been a lucky moment for him, since he had been working late again when the sandstorm hit. There was no loneliness out in the storm because when he stood in the whirling sand, it was as if someone was caressing him softly with love and there was no better feeling than that. If he closed his eyes tightly enough, he could almost picture a person caressing him, Isla. _You're terrible. She won't even speak to you like a friend and you're imagining her touching you. _His eyes snapped open and he stared out into the storm. The last thing he needed was to think about what he was trying to pretend didn't exist.

Isla, Gaara's assistant, had been strictly professional since their conversation that night, despite his attempts to have a friendly discussion. After a couple weeks of rejected attempts, he had to force himself to give up, even though it made his chest ache. He hoped she hadn't told his brother what happened that night. It terrified him to think about what Kankurou might say or do if he knew. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so afraid. It must have been many years ago, when he was just a child, afraid of his father's hateful stare. Now he was fearful that his brother would look at him with the same eyes, which were so much like their father's. _Why wouldn't he? You're a _horrible _brother._ He deserved it, to be hated by his brother and hated by Isla. How was it that he was so terrible when he tried so hard to be good? _You're just a natural at being terrible. _It couldn't be that he himself was naturally a monster. No, it had to be the thing inside him. _That_ was the monster _not _him. _You're kidding yourself. _"I'm not a monster," he said to himself. _You like the sandstorms. No _human _likes the sandstorms. _"I _am not _a monster." _Liar._

Gaara sighed and closed his eyes again, focusing on the movement of the sand instead of the thoughts that made him crazy. _It's been a while since you have felt insane. _He ignored the thought, breathing in the scent of the sand and relaxing. It was a rare occasion when he could actually relax. Being the Kazekage was a time consuming and stressful job, especially when he stayed in the office late, working to distract himself. The desire to speak to Isla was becoming unbearable and much too painful to deal with. _You have only yourself to blame for that. _He knew that friendships were sensitive, but he never realized how much it could hurt to lose a friend. _Your wallowing is sickening. Stop being pathetic. _"Shut up," he growled. _You're such a baby. _"Shut _up_!" This was the last thing he needed when he was trying to relax. He wished that it would just _go away _and kept quiet. He was trying _not _to think about Isla. _You're doing a bad job. She's all you're thinking about._

Relaxing was impossible with that in his head, so he gave up, turning his back to the sandstorm and walking back inside. The building was unusually quiet and dark, since he had sent everyone home early for the holiday. This was something he was used to, being in the office alone, and something he preferred. There was no one to see his misery or ask him how he was doing. _You're young, you shouldn't be so antisocial. _"People don't want to know that I'm having problems, they want to think that I'm perfectly tamed and controllable. They don't care about _me_, just my title," he grumbled. _You're such a downer. _"I'm realistic." His voice echoed through the empty hallways. Vaguely, he wondered what someone would think if they heard him talking to himself. _They'd think you were crazy, which you are. _He certainly did _feel _crazy and had since the incident with Isla. He never realized that friendships caused such feelings. _They don't idiot. The only time they do is when you're _in love _with your friend._

"What?" Gaara stopped dead in his tracks. _How can you be so _clueless_? _It just wasn't possible for him to be in love with Isla. She was his brother's girlfriend, off-limits. _You can't stop yourself from loving someone. It just happens. _"That doesn't matter. It's not possible. I can't. I don't. _Liar._ _You can and do. _No, he refused to believe that reason he was feeling so bad was because he loved her. It only made the situation much worse and made him worse as a brother. _Like that's possible. _He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of any thoughts, but failed miserably. Giving up all hope of obtaining his rationality back, he started back towards his office. Neither of his assistants sat at their desks, having left the building hours before. Seeing Isla's empty desk made his chest ache slightly.

The office was unusually cold and offered little comfort. Because of all of his late nights working, there wasn't any more work for him to do. Now he was forced to think about Isla and what his suffering meant. _It's easier if you just admit that you love her. Then you can take the next step. _"Which is?" _Steal her from Kankurou. _The thought made Gaara hunch over his desk and grimace. He could _never_ steal Isla from his brother and even if he was able to, he wouldn't. Stealing her would make him the worst brother ever and Kankurou would loathe him. _She deserves better. _The two were good together; he had no doubt about that. Isla loved his brother and vice versa. _You are so infuriatingly delusional. _The irritation in the voice was clear, something he was used to when hearing it.

"She's happy," he mumbled. _Do you really think so? _"_Yes._" A cackle echoed through his head at the hissed reply. The sound of it made Gaara's muscles tense and his jaw clench shut. It had been quite a while since he had heard that cackle and it was as unpleasant as ever. He prepared himself for the tremors, the force of the second consciousness, and the sharp headache that usually followed the cackle, but it never came. Another cackle. _Idiot._ His body remained tense for a few more moments before finally relaxing, when he was sure that what he was waiting for wasn't going to come. At the same time he felt the consciousness within him stir and grab at the deeper thoughts in his mind. Though he knew it was pointless, he tried to push it away and put up a subconscious wall. _Your stupidity never ceases to confound me._

It broke through the wall, giving him a splitting headache in the process. He grabbed his head and hunched over his desk again as it accessed the thoughts he wanted to keep hidden from it. _You've seen a lot more than you are willing to admit. _Or_ you are just that clueless that you have no idea what you've seen. _His head filled with images of Isla and Kankurou and scenes he'd witnessed but found insignificant. They flashed by so fast that he had no time to contemplate why it was showing them to him. _"Sometimes I feel like I'd be breaking up with _you _and not Kankurou."_ Isla's voice marked the end of the flashing images and the sudden stillness of the consciousness inside him both surprised and worried Gaara. He remained still for several moments, waiting for another assault of images, but it kept still in the back of his mind, seemingly satisfied.

Outside, the sandstorm was slowly starting to calm down and when Gaara realized this, a tight knot of dread formed in his stomach. There would be no delaying going home any longer, though there was never any reason for him to delay to begin with, other than he had no desire to go home. Unlike others in his village, he was not crippled by a sandstorm, no matter how bad it was. The sand only softly moved around him, just barely grazing his skin, never harming him. Even with that being the case, he had allowed the storm to trap him so he could avoid going home and seeing his brother and Isla. Now, as he forced himself to stand, he had no choice but to leave the office and wait at home until the morning, when he could return and have more work to do.

Gaara was sluggish as he moved around the office, taking his time, making sure that everything was in order before he finally locked up. _Coward. _The insult hit harder than it should have, but he was pained by the truth of it. He was _afraid _to speak to his own brother because he was _afraid _that Kankurou would figure out what happened between him and Isla. He was _afraid _that his brother would look at him as their father once had. Kankurou had only ever looked at him with fearful eyes, never hateful eyes and to Gaara, a hateful stare would always be worse than a fearful one. Somehow fear was a lot easier for him to handle than hate was. _You'd be losing the love of your brother, something you always had, even when he feared you. _He realized how true the statement was. Even when Kankurou feared Gaara he had cared for his younger brother and worried about him. The thought of losing that was torture.

By the time he left the building, the sandstorm had died down completely and the silence deafening. He knew the walk back home would be excruciating because with each step he took, he got closer and closer to Isla and Kankurou. They would be close enough for him to hear their voices and feel their energy, something he wished he could escape. _Pathetic. _Gaara shook his head, trying to ignore the voice as he walked down the quiet streets of the village. _Wouldn't want any of the villagers seeing you talk to yourself. It would shatter their fantasy of you being _tamed _and _controllable. He tried to be annoyed by the comment, but it was the exact reason why he wouldn't respond to the voice out loud. Even with it being so late at night that most people were sleeping, there was still the possibility that someone would see him.

The house was silent when he finally arrived home and he almost wished Temari were there to greet him. However, his sister was very observant and would most definitely notice what a mess he was, even though he hid it well. His ascent up the stairs was stopped short when he heard hushed voices from Kankurou's room. He tried to tune them out, but the consciousness within him forced him to listen to them. With its sensitive hearing, he was able to make out what the voices were saying, even though they were almost quiet enough to be called whispers. "Again? Why?" he recognized Isla's voice. Her tone was unusual, sounding stressed and a bit displeased.

"Because I'm a _shinobi_, Isla. That's why," Kankurou's voice broke through the silence completely and echoed through the hall. It was the first time Gaara heard his brother use a sharp tone with Isla and he certainly didn't like it. "_Why _do you insist on questioning me _every time_? My job is _important._ Unlike _yours._" The cruel edge of his brother's tone surprised Gaara. Why was Kankurou being so nasty to Isla? _I wonder_.

"My job _is _important. I am the Kazekage's assistant. I-"

"Can easily be replaced. Hell, if you keep doing this to me, I'll get you fired!" Kankurou growled and Isla gasped. It was odd to hear Kankurou use a cruel threatening voice, almost as if he were a different person entirely.

"You couldn't! You wouldn't!"

"I could and I would. I'm his brother, you're just his _assistant._"

"I'm your girlfriend. I'm supposed to be a part of your family. _You_ even told me when I _moved in _that I _was _a part of your family now! Why are you being this way?" _She's crying._ Gaara couldn't see her, but he knew it was right. Isla was crying and the desire to hold her and wipe away her tears hit him hard.

"And there you go crying again. _Again_," an exasperated sigh came from Kankurou. _Kill him. _The desire to kill slammed into him and he had to force it away, for the desire was not his own. "You know what, I'm not going to sleep in here with you like this. Goodnight, Isla." There were shuffling footsteps moving towards the door. _Move! They'll know you've been listening! _Gaara swiftly and quietly moved down the stairs and back to the front door. It would be better for Kankurou to think he had just arrived home.

Kankurou was at the bottom of the stairs when Gaara made his way through the front door for a second time. "Hey, Gaara," he greeted in a low voice, clearly unhappy. "Working late again, huh?" A simple nod was all that was given as a reply and all that was needed. Kankurou grunted and walked down the hall towards his old bedroom that had been turned into a workshop when he moved upstairs, which still contained a small bed. _Cold. So cold. _Gaara stood in front of the door for a few seconds, staring at the dark hallway before making his way up the stairs and towards his room. As he passed by Kankurou's room, he listened carefully for any sound of Isla crying, but heard nothing.

His room was just as quiet, just as dark as the rest of the house. Pausing at the door, he examined the stale room that was his bedroom. Plain white walls with no decorations littering them, simple wood flooring with not a single piece of clothing thrown onto it, a barely noticeable dresser in the corner, and a nightstand on which his only picture sat. The room was too clean, too neat, like the room was unused. A door to the left side of his bedroom led to a small bathroom and he headed straight for it. He wasn't one for baths, but his body felt too jumpy, shaky even, and he hoped the steaming water of a bath would calm his nerves. _Clueless. _"Shut up," he growled lowly.

He slowly stripped, letting the clothing fall haphazardly to the floor. His fingertips traced over the large scar on his chest, the place where Sasuke's Chidori had pierced through him. The skin had not healed well, due to the extensive burn and had made the spot uneven and rough to the touch. It was a reminder of the past he wished he could forget and an imperfection he longed to erase. _You _are _an imperfection. A relic the council wants to get rid of. _The words that he had once said himself echoed through his head. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had spoken them to Naruto and Shikamaru – the easygoing Leaf shinobi that Temari admired. He was different then, angry and hateful, killing for fun and practically bathing in the blood of those who faced his wrath. _The good days. _He winced at the thought. It referred to his dark and broken past as _good_ when it was anything but. _That's debatable. _"No, it's not," he mumbled, finally turning to the bathtub.

The water was hot, close to scalding, almost soothing, but not quite. Gaara closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the tub. _Is it working? _The voice was mocking him. "It won't if you don't shut up," the words came out slurred. It cackled, reaching out into his mind again, though this time he did nothing to stop it. It leisurely rifled through his thoughts, murmuring about his stupidity. "_What_?" _Seeing the world through your eyes isn't exactly easy. You don't _see _as much as you should. _Gaara grunted, unsure of what it meant by that. All his years of solitude had taught him to be observant and he had seen plenty because of that. _But your mind glosses over certain things because you don't understand them; don't understand that they're important. _He wanted to argue that it was wrong, but he wouldn't be able to do so successfully. His lack of human interaction had left him socially stunted. Its roar of laughter cut through his head. _How true that is!_ Gaara gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut tighter._ Let me show you something._

It started to appear slowly, blooming like a flower bright with colors. Half of the image was blurry, like he was looking through a pair of someone's prescription glasses. _Because you focused on the wrong thing. What do you see? _The scene was difficult to make out. There were figures in the background, people he was sure were council members only because their robes gave them away. It was one of the formal events he was required to attend as the Kazekage. In the focused section of the image were Isla and Kankurou, standing together as a couple. On the other side of Kankurou was Matsuri and though she was blurry, he could tell she wore a short black dress that seemed abnormal for her. Was that what he was supposed to see? _No. _There wasn't anything else in the image, just blurs of things he assumed didn't matter.

"Gaara! Gaara, are you in here?" a feminine voice called out, cutting through Gaara's thoughts. His eyes snapped open and he abruptly sat up, splashing water over the edge of the bathtub. The voice alarmed him, though it was not the voice of the person he had unintentionally driven away. It was the voice of his older sister, Temari, and she was certainly the last person he wanted to see. One look at him and she'd be able to see what a mess he was.

He swiftly pulled himself out of the bathtub and grabbed a towel to secure around his waist. When he opened the door, Temari was standing in front of it with her hand raised, preparing to knock. She stepped back, seemingly shocked by his presence. "Temari, welcome home," he greeted her in a monotone, which made her narrow her eyes slightly. "You're back earlier than expected."

"Ah, well, Kankurou sent for me," she said, studying his face with worry coloring her eyes. Her words caused him to tense and move around her and away from her scrutiny. "Now, now, I know you can take of yourself, but that doesn't mean we can't worry about you. We are your siblings and we do love you, after all." _They wouldn't if they knew what you'd done. _Its voice echoed through his head, cruelly mocking him and the thing he feared the most. The thought of it made him nauseous and he was suddenly dizzy.

"Why . . . did Kankurou send for you?" he asked slowly, his words unusually drawn out. Temari noticed and her brows furrowed in concern.

"You've been running yourself ragged, working late every night, sometimes not coming home at all. You may not be able to sleep, but you still need _rest_, Gaara," she spoke softly, taking a small step forward. Gaara was unbalanced, his bedpost the only thing keeping him up. "Are you alright, Gaara? You look . . . like a mess." He turned away from her kind and caring gaze, the sight of it making him feel worse. _Stop; please go away, _he thought.

"I'm fine," his voice was quiet.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." _Liar. _Temari let out a long, weary sigh, turning away from Gaara and walking towards his bedroom door. The guilt twisted around unpleasantly in his stomach and he immediately spun around to address his sister once more. "I'm fine, Temari. If at any point I'm not, I'll . . . I'll tell you." His words made her pause.

"You can always trust me, Gaara."

"I know, Temi," he whispered, using the nickname he had given her when he was just a child – before his uncle tried to assassinate him. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, a small smile on her face. It had been a long time since he had called her that and by the look on her face, it pleased her.

"Goodnight, Gaara. Please rest," she murmured in a gentle voice. All he could do was nod and watch as she left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. _They're both _so _worried about their _little _brother. _It mocked the way his siblings loved and cared about him. It had no use for the love of another and therefore found it pointless. _Humans and their weak little hearts. _Gaara knew that, to some extent, it was right. Love made people do crazy things, made them act reckless, but it also made them happy and gave them something to fight for. Being loved by someone rid you of that lonesome feeling, the feeling of being unwanted. _Like you would know! _It cackled loudly.

"Shut up," Gaara mumbled, slowly walking to his dresser. The bath had not been as relaxing as he had hoped it would be, so there was no sense in returning to it. He dressed, slowly pulling his clothes on, before going back into the bathroom to drain the water. Staring at the water, he wondered what was supposed to be relaxing about a bath and if he had somehow done something wrong. _Thinking too much. _"That's your fault. If you had just shut up." _Like it really matters._

Gaara lay on his bed and sighed. It would be much easier, not to mention quicker, if he were just able to sleep. The hours up until he could return to the office would be spent lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. _You're so boring now._ Images of blood, crushed bodies, and horrified faces flashed through his mind and he fought to force them away. It sickened him to think of all of the people he had mercilessly killed. He had killed a lot more than an average shinobi would in their entire lifetime. He had killed innocents, people who didn't deserve to die and those were the deaths that were the hardest to live with. No matter how much he changed or how much of an effort he made to be good, he would always have the blood of innocent people on his hands. _You're such a baby._ "Regretting my past decisions doesn't make me a baby," he said under his breath.

Regret. The emotion was strong within him, so overwhelming that it made his stomach tighten painfully. There were so many things that he regretted, so many things that he wished he could take back. As a child he had hurt Temari, lashing out at her unfairly when she was only trying to care for him. It was after their uncle had tried to assassinate him and after he had carved the kanji "love" on his forehead. Walking into the house, with his forehead bleeding, he ran into Temari, who was concerned about him. When she tried to help, he struck out, slamming her against a wall and breaking one of her arms. That night she had looked at him with such fear, a look that he would never forget, a look that would always hurt him. _It was only the first of many times you hurt her. _It was right. Many times afterwards he had threatened and said cruel, nasty things to both her _and_ Kankurou. It only took a couple times of following through on his threats for them to learn that he was serious and that he would hurt them, even kill them, if he wanted. "I wish I could take it all back," he whispered.

They weren't the only ones he had hurt. There were many others and most did not survive his misdirected anger. Back when he didn't believe in love, when he was only filled with one emotion, when he was the weapon his father had wanted him to be. Back then there was nothing to him, only death. During the Chuunin exam, all he could think about was killing as many people as he possibly could. It didn't matter who they were, whether they were old or young, shinobi or civilian, he wanted them dead. That was his way of proving his existence, his way of feeling alive. The voice of the demon within him didn't help, encouraging him to kill and demanding blood more often than not. _You enjoyed it. _Remembering the times he had found pleasure in the act of taking another person's life brought a new wave of nausea to his stomach. There was no denying that he had once enjoyed the deaths of others. He couldn't be sure, though, if he had actually enjoyed it or if it had just been the influence of the demon.

Very few had been lucky enough to survive his wrath. Rock Lee was one of them, though he hadn't escaped entirely unharmed. The bones in his left arm and leg had been completely crushed by Gaara's sand during their preliminary match in the Chuunin exam, something that had made his already difficult life as a shinobi even more difficult. From what Gaara had heard, Lee had spent months recovering from the damage, his fight with the Sound shinobi setting him back quite a few. Gaara felt guilty about it later, when he realized just how much trouble he'd caused Lee, how close he'd been to destroying Lee's career as a shinobi. Despite the fact that the two had not spent much time together, he considered the odd boy somewhat of a friend. Lee was very kind and quite accepting of him, but that was just the kind of person Lee was.

Uchiha Sasuke, whose agility was comparable to Lee's, was another one to have escaped him. There had never been anyone that Gaara wanted to kill more than the Uchiha. He remembered the feeling perfectly, as if it hadn't been years since that day. Perhaps he still harbored some resentment towards him, but for what Gaara couldn't be sure. Was it because Sasuke had been the first person to physically hurt him and make him bleed? Or was it because of the blatant disregard of his teammates and the way they cared about him? As the Kazekage, Gaara knew his judgment of Sasuke should be based solely on the fact that the once Leaf shinobi was now considered a traitor, a missing-nin. However, he found it difficult to remain objective when Naruto, the only person he felt the true connection of friendship with, felt the sharp sting of betrayal.

While Sasuke was the first person to make Gaara bleed, Uzumaki Naruto was the first person to defeat him. He couldn't fully regret his actions because what had happened had not only changed his perspective of many things, but had also brought him his first friend. Naruto truly understood his pain and loneliness, the anger he felt towards everyone and the desire to be like everyone else. And although the beginnings of their lives were alike, each had taken different paths. Gaara remained alone, feared and hated, while Naruto grew to be accepted and found friends at his village's Ninja Academy. He was glad, thankful even, that he had been given the chance to meet the Leaf Jinchuuriki. If he had never met Naruto, his life would still be hell, full of nothing but a deep loathing towards everything. _Your life is still hell. _It surprised him, suddenly breaking through his thoughts with its voice. _Also, don't forget the pink haired girl._

The girl who faced him fully while he was half transformed with no fear in her eyes, only determination, Haruno Sakura. He had slammed her against a tree with his sand, immobilizing her and nearly suffocating her. Back then her actions had confused and angered him, but now he understood. She loved Sasuke and had been protecting him, whether or not she was killed didn't matter as long as he was safe. After the fight, after Naruto defeated him, Gaara admired her for being able to put her fear behind her and face him. Nobody had ever stood up to him and she had without a single moment of hesitation. _She would have died had the blond boy not taken you down. _"He wasn't just fighting for his life, he was fighting for _theirs _too. I couldn't compete. I had nothing to lose, but he had _everything _to lose," Gaara recalled Naruto's words to him. _"I care more about them than I do myself and I won't let anyone hurt them. That's why I'll never give up. I will stop you, even if I have to kill you. They saved me from myself. They rescued me from my loneliness. They were the first to accept me as who I am. They're my friends." _The words made Gaara think about what his uncle told him about love and realized why Naruto was stronger than him.

Love._ "Love is the care and devotion you feel for the precious ones around you." "Needing those close to you. An affectionate heart that gives all of itself for those important people and is watching over them." _Naruto was strong because he was fighting for others, people that he loved and cared about. His life didn't matter if theirs were on the line. His death was a small sacrifice if it meant saving them. Though he was usually exuberant, sometimes brash, Naruto was truly selfless and didn't have a single cruel bone in his body. He was strangely considerate, thoughtful, and open to others, especially when they needed help. With that kind of compassion towards his allies and odd ruthlessness towards enemies that seemed out of character, he was sure to become the Hokage in the future.

Gaara wished he could be just as righteous, but his past made it difficult. The way the village viewed him would not be changed so easily. Despite being the Kazekage, he was still seen as a monster by many. _That may never change. No matter how much you help those ungrateful villagers. _"I know," he whispered, a sad note in his voice. "I know." Closing his eyes, he pretended to be normal, pretended he wasn't sharing his mind with another, pretended that he too could sleep. It was a futile attempt, but it was all he could do to comfort himself while he waited for morning, waited to start another short day filled with distractions.


End file.
